


Severing Tides

by phoenixjustice



Category: Manimal (TV), That Guy with the Glasses
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Self-cest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:38:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixjustice/pseuds/phoenixjustice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Nostalgia Critic finds himself kidnapped by a group of mafioso for some sort of nefarious purpose, it is up to a snobby film critic, an internet reviewer, his insane Doctor counterpart, and two of the 1980s film and television stars to get him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Severing Tides

: :: :

He holds back a moan, knowing--as always--that they had to be as quiet as possible. Even if the main reason they did so was supposed to be gone for _hours_. His thoughts quickly stray, however, when a warm hand moves up his chest, encircling a nipple before gently, torturingly, rubbing it. He lets out a shaky breath, unable to stop himself. A soft chuckle in his ear lets him know just how much the other person was enjoying his reactions--damn tease!

First he says that they have to be quiet, but _then_ proceeds to do his damndest to make him cry out louder than an opera singer!

"You alright?" a soft voice purrs in his ear. The Voice was all too familiar to him, even before they somehow got into bed together for the first time months earlier. "If I'm too rough, I can..." A thrust has him glaring at the man at the same time he clings tighter to him.

"...keep going?" Critic says, eyeing the man.

Snob smirks slightly. "You're looking at me as if you haven't _begged_ me to hold you down and--"

"I get the point," Critic snaps. He almost regretted coming here; it wasn't that long of a drive for him, but he hadn't even planned to come over. But after that last meeting with the Nerd... "Just...just hurry up."

He closes his eyes as he holds all the tighter to the Cinema Snob, hating himself for his weakness, ignoring the sudden prickling of tears in his eyes, ignoring the longing in his heart that the man who now embraced him was actually--if only this one time--thinking of him, and only him.

: :: :

"...I'll see you, later." Snob says sometime later. "She's going to be back soon." Ah, Critic thinks, of course. The forbidden subject. "And anyway, I need to finish up a new video and I'm sure you do too." he adds.

"Right." Critic says, straightening his trademark tie and hat. There was awkward silence for a few moments before Critic finally finds himself moving, opening the door and leaving the Snob's house. He halts when he gets to his car, but soon starts walking again, needing some air to clear his head before he took the long trip home.

After wandering for a time, he finds himself deep into town. He looks at a few shop windows, but with all the excitement of a kid getting vegetables when trick-o-treating. He stops by an old television repair shop, looking at the various televisions that were used as the store display. One of the movies managed to catch his attention for a few moments and so he stood there like that, until he feels a sudden tap on his shoulder.

He turns and finds himself staring at a rather handsome olive skinned man in a nice looking black suit with curling black hair. He stares jealously at it. Why were some people blessed with a great head of hair than others? Totally not fair!

"Are you alright?" asked the man, with a faint accent that Critic couldn't place. "You look lost."

If _that_ wasn't the understatement of the--

"Here. Come," the man says warmly, wrapping a friendly arm around Critic's shoulders. "We'll have a cup of coffee or have a couple of beers--your choice--and you can tell me all your troubles."

If he had been any less heartbroken and torn, he would have most likely said no, but somehow he found he couldn't refuse the offer of the handsome stranger.

"I am Dimitri Nikos. And you?"

"...just call me Critic."

They end up at a coffee shop--as Critic, even in his state, knew that drinking would _not_ help him any. It was silent for a little while, but as the man brings their coffee over from the counter, he finds himself longing to confide in this stranger, or in anyone, in his problem and his secret. It was starting to take a toll on him, but he could not stop coming back to Snob no matter how much he said it was a bad idea.

"So this...man, this Snob, he is married?"

Critic winces. That was certainly blunt enough.

"Yeah," Critic says, taking a sip of the coffee. "And I already knew that going in. But the thing was I never even planned on starting anything. I mean I...I knew that was never going to go anywhere but stay in my imagination."

"You keep coming back regardless of circumstances." Dimitri says, leaning back in his chair. "It means something. So. What do you feel for this man? _Really_ feel for him?"

Critic feels his face flushing. Flustered, he takes another sip of coffee, not sure just how to answer that or even if he _could_. That was a really complicated subject. But when you got down to it...

He blinks as his vision starts to blur. Things start to spin and he finds himself glancing at his cup then at the man across from him. The man leans forward, smiling at him, slapping playfully at the Critic's face. He crashes to the floor, his eyes getting heavy as he hears footsteps and the sounds of people coming closer.

"Pick him up and ready him," Dimitri says to someone he cannot see. "He'll do. Now we can finally leave this town and get things started."

: :: :

He turns his camera off with a sigh, sitting back in his chair. He couldn't even finish the damn video. Jillian was going to be back soon as she was going to wonder just why he wasn't finished, when that was the reason--excuse--he sent her off to begin with; so he could finish his video alone. He rubs at his head, letting out a growl. It would fucking help if he didn't stop seeing the Critic everytime he fucking _blinked._ It was his own damn fault and he knew it.

He was the one who let things go on as they had been, even knowing that it was hurting Critic, even knowing how the Critic felt about him--having heard him once when Critic thought he was asleep--and worse, using that knowledge to ensure that Critic stayed close to him, though he himself had never said to Critic, had told him that he...

He lets out a frustrated curse, standing up, grabbing his coat and heading out, needing some air to clear his head. He stops, surprised, when he sees Critic's car still parked a few houses down like they had discussed. He looks around, half expecting Critic to pop out and surprise him or something but there was nothing. Everything was startling silent and it was starting to unnerve him a bit.

So he decides to walk into town, see if there were any good movies playing. Hell he would even watch a shitty movie if it kept him from angsting over his thoughts like this. After walking past a few familiar restaurants, he stops walking, eyes widening as he sees the sight of an obviously unconscious Critic being dragged into an awaiting car. He starts to run to it, yelling, but they take off before he can reach it.

So he does the only thing he can think of: he memorizes the license plate number on the car.

: :: :

He wakes up to darkness, eyes blinking rapidly, trying to gain some bearing of his surroundings. Once he starts to shake out of the fog that his head had been gripped in, he notices a few things; a table, a lamp, the fact that he was tied up to a bed in some dark, unknown room kidnapped by strangers....

As if having some kind of radar on just when he woke up, a door opens, light streaming in, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut until they adjust to the light. When he opens them back up, he sees the man, Dimitri standing over him for a moment before moving to sit down next to him on the bed. He growls in anger, trying to move away, but finds himself tied up too tightly to move very much at all.

"Good you are awake," Dimitri says, leaning on an elbow as he looks down at him. "I was afraid you would stay asleep for the entire way until we are off of the boat."

"B-boat?" Critic manages to spit out, fear and anger in both his voice and his eyes. "Just what the hell do you have planned for me?"

"Oh it's not just you my friend." Dimitri says, running a light hand across Critic's leg, causing him to shiver in disgust. "There are others. But do not worry, you will continue to be treated better than they are. I like the look of you. All broken down and defeated, but yet you still insist on putting on this air in front of others. This...hard shell. I find it--" he runs a hand further up Critic's body. "quite enticing. But alas, I cannot keep you."

"Get the hell off of me." Critic hisses.

Dimitri merely laughs, patting him on his thigh and stands.

"Be a good boy and wait until Master returns--it will be quite the fun experience, I assure you."

Critic's eyes squeeze close as the man leaves the room, his laughter mocking the Nostalgia Critic even further. As the darkness comes over him once more and he starts to--minutely--relax as he hears no one coming back, his thoughts turn to his friends and of two times of what could have been.

: :: :

He had a license plate, but he had no idea what kind of car it had been nor where it was going. The Nostalgia Critic could be anywhere by now, he could be... But, no. He shakes that thought out of his head. He runs back into the house, past a startled Jillian who had herself just recently returned, and grabs his cell phone, before turning around to run back out.

"Wait, where are you going?! I just got back!"

He turns briefly. "I just saw The Nostalgia Critic's get kidnapped. I have to go!"

She grabs his arm. "Let's call the police first. If you saw something then we should tell them, and--"

He couldn't help himself, couldn't stop himself; he pulls away from her and runs off. His mind full of worry of the man who he had only just recently seen look so...well he kind of wanted to say 'radiant' but that sounded kind of gay....not that there was anything wrong with gay people (he had plenty of friends who were and he himself was admittedly bisexual), but the term just seemed so romance novel-y and it didn't even _begin_ to describe how he felt.

After calling a number of his friends and acquaintances as he walked frantically to his car, and getting many voicemails, he about throws his phone in frustration until _finally_ someone answers their phone.

"Hello?"

"Spoony it's me. We have a big problem."

: :: :

"Here you are Doctor, our latest catch. Your unbiased opinion will be of great value." the voice of Dimitri says somewhere behind him.

"Of course." said a cultured voice in front of him. He flinches as a gloved hand touches his face, turning it this way and that way. "Hmm. Nice face. Body seems quite nice as well. You said he has attitude, however."

"I like to call it spunk myself, Doctor Chase." Dimitri says. "They never like them timid and weak when they first get them; they much prefer to _break_ them themselves."

A cold shiver runs down Critic's spine. The man Dimitri called "Doctor Chase" chuckles slightly.

"Quite true. You've done well for yourself, Dimitri. He will fetch a good price at tomorrow's auction."

: :: :

He blinks in disorientation as he arrives in Spoony's house. The reviewer puts in his pocket what the Cinema Snob assumed was the "teleporter" that Doctor Insano had made, but it just looked like a wiimote to him. Maybe it was all about belief in it or something, who knew.

"Thanks for bringing me here." Snob says. "I called most of the others but I couldn't get a hold of them and I wasn't sure just who else to--"

"Hey, it's no problem man. I was only catching up on TNA Impact anyways." Spoony says with a shudder of disgust. "Critic may annoy me sometimes, but he's my friend too. So I'll do whatever I can to help."

Friend, huh? If he only knew...

"Like I said on the phone, I have the plate number and I can't be positive but with the way they were going, I think they might be heading to the marina. I wanted to just head down there myself but..."

"Strength in numbers?" Spoony suggested.

"Yeah. So, about this idea you had?" he says to his friend.

Spoony shrugs, leading them down the house and towards a door which led to his basement. He beckons Snob to follow him. The downstairs was very, very different from the upstairs; there was a long metal table, various jars and tubes and things that Snob had only seen in movies. It was all rather surreal. Then again the whole _situation_ was surreal and messed up.

"Uh, about that. Not so much an idea as a person." says Spoony.

They halt in front of a desk. A leather chair turns dramatically towards them.

Insano looks at them, hands crossed.

"So what can I do for you two today?" Insano asks, smiling--rather malevolently Snob thought.

"Critic's missing." Spoony says. "Or kidnapped rather. Snob saw someone take him not that long ago, but he couldn't catch them."

"Aww, poor Critic." crooned Insano, false sincerity lining his voice. "How I will miss his inexplicable anger whenever he hears about a 'bat credit card'."

Snob and Spoony both look around suddenly; if anything would somehow magically get Critic back, it'd be for that, with gun blazing in anger at the ignorance of a director who couldn't direct his way out of a paper bag.

Unfortunately for them, however, he doesn't appear. That told them both that the already serious situation was that more dangerous than they thought.

"So where do I fit into this plan of yours then? I have inventions to make! _Science_ to create!" exclaimed Insano, standing up, raising an arm in the air as if unable to stop himself.

"Help us find him--you'll get a chance to use some of your new inventions." Spoony says, arms crossed over his Final Fantasy VIII--SUCKS shirt. He continues to butter up the insane doctor. "After all, you _are_ the best scientist arou--"

"Meh. I suppose that's what you say to _all_ the devilishly handsome, devil-may-care, brilliant minded scientists you see! I'm onto you!" Insano shreaks, pointing a finger at Spoony.

Spoony merely rolls his eyes, more than used to Insano and his tactics and instead moves closer to him. A little _too_ close, if Snob had so himself (considering the fact that you know, Spoony and Insano were the same person), and whispers something into Insano's ear.

Insano's maniacal grin suddenly deepens into a disturbingly sensual grin.

"Well, why didn't you just say so to begin with? I'll crack out the handcuffs later, but for now--let's get to work!" Insano says, clapping his hands and rubbing them gleefully.

: :: :

He kept drifting in and out of consciousness--no doubt due to the drug that Dimitri had spiked in his coffee earlier--and finds himself once more in a different location. This time his hands and legs were tied around a long chair and he was on the top deck of the 'boat' the crime lord had been talking about. And if boat he meant 'super fucking big ass boat', then yeah, this was it.

He looks around but doesn't see anyone. He tries to wiggle out of the ropes--no luck. He tries to mentally call on That Guy--that didn't work either. Oh, That Guy probably heard him, but most likely didn't care. The prick. He tries to think of his brother The Other Guy, but also no dice. He even tries to call on Santa Christ, but then he remembers that he kind of uh...shot him, so it was safe to assume that Jolly Old Jesus was pissed off at him.

"Snob..." he mutters softly.

"Nice day out, isn't it?" says a voice to his left. He jumps, head straining to see who it was. The voice was familiar, however and he recognizes it from earlier; it was the so called 'doctor' who had examined him.

"Can't say it is." Critic says sarcastically. "What with me being kidnapped and tied down to a chair."

The man shrugs, continuing to look over the railing as he had been.

"You have to be patient for a little while longer." said the man.

"I'm not getting sold to anyone, even if it was to the Dallas Cheerleaders. Well actually...nevermind," he says, shaking his head. "I'm going to start screaming here real soon. So you might want to come over and gag me. Just be careful; I bite. Hard." He glares at the back of the man.

The man tsks, shaking his sandy brown hair. He finally turns, giving Critic his first good look at him. He was a handsome man who looked to be in his early to mid thirties. He was also smirking at him.

"Doctor Jonathan Chase, at your service. But you may call me Jonathan if you so wish." says the man. "And you are the Nostalgia Critic--you remember it so the rest of us don't have to. Something like that, correct?"

"..."

Doctor Chase walks forward. He peers around, as if to make sure no one else had come up on deck, and leans in.

"I'm here undercover to stop a smuggling ring that has been going on under Canada and the States' noses for years and only recently discovered."

Critic looks at him in disbelief. The man smiles gently.

"I'm here to help you."

: :: :

"Ah! _There_ is my teleporter!" Insano says, suddenly pulling a hand into Spoony's pants.

"Hey!" squeaked Spoony.

"Oh god! My eyes!" said Snob, covering his face. "I was already scarred for life when I heard that comment about handcuffs!"

Insano lets out a huff. "Oh get _over_ it already, will you? I thought I misplaced my teleporter after it malfunctioned the first time." He takes it to a table and starts to tinker on it and a couple other things while both Snob and Spoony take to pacing around the lab.

It felt like forever as Insano worked, with Snob's mind constantly on the man who had been taken. His mind unable to think of little else.

"When did you use it before?" Snob asks, needing something, a question, anything to distract him.

"Hmm?"

"Your teleporter-thing."

"Oh that," Insano says distantly, hammering at the teleporter. "Earlier today, before Spoony grabbed it suddenly out of my pants."

"Pants pocket!" Spoony says desperately. "Pocket! There was no inappropriate touching involved!"

"Unfortunately." Insano sighs.

A sudden squeak of a door gets the attention of all in the room, even the distracted Insano.

"You're all finished then?" Insano says.

"Yeah. It's strange. I was in the middle of delivering a yacht and then I found myself here."

"Sorry about the mix-up. I was looking to do some dimensional rift traveling and I called on the wrong Kirby."

When the person walks into the room and Snob sees who it is, his jaw drops to the floor in utter disbelief.

: :: :

"I have to wait until the boat is close enough to the docks to make my move--there are awaiting police and SWAT who are waiting on my signal." says Doctor Chase.

"And how the hell am I supposed to believe you?" Critic says, eying him warily, careful to keep his voice down, however.

"I know it's hard. But you'll have to if you want to get out of this alive." Chase says, eyeing the water ahead. "It won't be much longer."

The doctor walks off and Critic sighs, laying his head against the chair. He hadn't been subjected to anything terrible--yet. But it was that yet that frightened him.

: :: :

"No. Fucking. Way." Snob says. He shakes his head in continued disbelief. "I must have been knocked unconscious at some point because I'm dreaming that I met Pierre Kirby. That's he's here. Like right now. In the same room as me."

"It's not a dream, you idiot." Insano says. "Now can I get back to these so I can hurry and help you rescue Critic so I can get Spoony down here and--"

"Rescue?" Pierre says. "Do you need any help?"

Snob almost fainted with glee.

: :: :

People came and went on the deck, but no one bothered him. Other than Dimitri, anyway, who came up at one point, made more comments that made Critic ill and then left, saying he had things to plan. As they start to get further along, a few men carrying guns come up, taking strategic places on the boat.

If the man, Chase, was telling the truth, just how did he expect to do anything even _with_ help from the police? These gunmen could just drop him as soon as he let out his signal, whatever that was.

He looks up as he hears a sudden screech, seeing a falcon circling overhead. He shakes his head in confusion. What the hell? Did the bird just _wink_ at him?

: :: :

After Pierre Kirby stocks up on guns helpfully provided by Spoony (well he supposed that Spoony needed all kinds of things to fend of Insano's various inventions. Or Insano himself, if the man's lustful eye was anything to go by. Then again, Spoony didn't really seem _all_ that bothered by it), and he himself and Snob suit up themselves, Insano points his--now repaired--teleporter at them.

"Wait, you're not going?" Spoony says.

"That wasn't part of the deal," Insano purrs. "I did see where they have Critic. Hope none of you have seasickness!"

With a beep of his teleporter, they were gone.

: :: :

The sun was slowly starting to set, giving the sky a beautiful shine of red, orange and others. Off into the distance, if he squinted hard enough, he could just make out the edges of docks. Showtime then. And just like that, things start happening in quick succession; he hears the sudden roar of a large cat, the loudspeaker of police on their boats and the sounds of gunfire.

He tries his best to lean down as far as he can out of the line of fire, but with the way he was tied up it was kind of a lost cause. Another roar, closer this time, has him opening his eyes back up. A panther, large and regal, starts stalking some of the men on board, roaring loudly, slashing its claws at one man. Or biting at another. It was also surprisingly quick, dodging the bullets of the frantic men who shot at it.

More men start coming from below deck and as the panther passes by him, it glances at him, winking once more.

No way. It couldn't be the same as the falcon could it. No, it _was_ the falcon. It was the panther. It was...

He doesn't get to finish his train of thought as a sudden flash of light startles him.

"Alright! It's time to purge some evil forces!"

And he must have been knocked unconscious or died at some point because somehow he got transported into Snob's dream, because Pierre Kirby was standing just a few feet away.

Spoony uses the butt of his sawed off shotgun to knock weapon's out of men's hands, then kicks one hard in the back of the knee, causing the lackey to collapse in pain. Pierre Kirby wore a pink gi, with ninja headband on his head. But where there would only be a sword would be on his back there was a machinegun as well as a sword. However he didn't need to use neither, as he karate-d his way through a hell of a lot of men.

"Critic!" he hears someone exclaims suddenly.

He looks and sees Snob running toward him, relief moving over his face.

"Look out!" he exclaims.

Snob does not have enough time, however, and he gets knocked aside hard, hitting the deck with a loud thud. As Pierre and Spoony try and make their way back over and Snob starts to get up, Critic stills as he feels cold steel press against his skull.

"Now now," the voice of Dimitri says, rather calmly over all the strife. By now police in helicopters and boats had come aboard and were also helping in taking down the criminals. "No more of that or there will be no more of your precious Nostalgia Critic." He eyes Snob. "You must be the Cinema Snob, the man Critic was talking about." He 'hmph's'. "A shame that he loves such a weak little man. Come now, hurry; say your goodbye's. For you all will die."

Snob's eyes widen.

"Ergk!"

They turn and see Dimitri get forcefully pulled away from the Critic by a large panther. It had a few scratches on it that were bleeding, but thankfully nothing major.

"Holy shit!" Snob exclaims, pointing. "It's Manimal!"

Dimitri starts to recover himself, aiming his gun at Manimal, starting to smile in triumph when a sudden kick from Pierre Kirby knocks it out of his hand. Manimal leaps forward but gets swatted away by a backhand from the Greek mobster. Pierre then takes the initiative and throws a punch at him. When that too gets countered, he counters back with a kick to the mobster, knocking the wind out of him. When Dimitri turns to take a wild swing at Pierre, the man quickly takes a jump step back, letting Manimal come in with a swipe of its claws, managing a hit on the man's back.

He roars in pain, pulling out another gun and starts to fire wildly. This takes Snob and Spoony out of their momentary shock and awe, with Snob moving over as carefully and quickly as he can, cutting Critic out of his binds. Critic starts to sit up, with the help of Snob--while Spoony watches over them both, carefully looking out for other lackeys or people. Critic looks at his...friend? lover? nothing? something?

"Snob, I--"

"Shut up, Critic." Snob growls, grabbing the man's lapels to pull him close, kissing him deeply.

"Dude! And you said _you_ were the scarred for life one!"

"Shut up, Spoony." Snob and Critic say simultaniously before kissing again.

Dimitri, though fit, was starting to tire from the onslaught that was Pierre Kirby and Manimal.

"Damn you all!" Dimitri yells. "You will not hear the last of me!"

Pushing past Pierre Kirby, he runs and jumps over the railing, and down into the long way to the water below.

They all move to look over the railing, but there was no sign of Dimitri or any tell-tell signs of blood.

"You think he got away?" Spoony asks to no one in particular.

The panther walks over to the railing, turning back into a man--shocking all but Critic and Snob. And he strangely still had clothes on.

"For now. But next time...we'll get him." Chase says.

"Looks like I need to do some more training then." Pierre Kirby says, a gleam in his eye.

Critic turns to the Cinema Snob, who was looking at him with a look in his eyes that he had never seen before, making his heart flutter rather wildly.

"Critic, about earlier--"

"Snob--"

"No let me finish." Snob says. "I'm sorry. Not just for earlier but for...everything."

Critic's blood ran cold. Everything? So he was saying everything was a mistake then?

"I shouldn't have let us go on like that. Not without telling you my feelings. After I heard you that time saying you loved me..."

Critic flushes. He didn't think Snob had been awake that time.

"It made me realize that I love you. Don't expect me to get all Hallmark card-y or spout poems or something though."

Critic smirks. "If you did that, I'd kick your ass. So. You really...?"

"Yeah."

"Cool." Critic says, starting to lean forward for another kiss, then stops himself. "Wait. What about Jillian?"

Snob shrugs, smiling slightly. "It's fine. I've been noticing her eyeing Insano's nurse lately--now I understand why."

: :: :

6 Months later

: :: :

He turns off the camera with a sigh. It was getting late and Critic was already going to kill him for making him sit through the new Twilight movie earlier (hey he needed something shitty to review). He stretches, walking down the long hallway of the large new house they lived in. He pauses as he hears some grunts in one of the rooms.

"Goodnight Pierre Kirby."

There was the sound of a punching bag being hit. "Night Snob. But uh, you don't have to use my full title everytime, you know." Pierre Kirby says amusedly.

He passes by another door, this one with smoke coming out from the bottom.

"Goodnight Spoony and Insano."

A moan. Ergh. He should have just kept on walking.

He walks past another door, which was open and sees Doctor Jonathan Chase, the Manimal (still as young as ever--perhaps due to his ability?), looking over some books. He looks up and waves at Snob, who waves back. After the incident on the boat, Chase had invited them all to live in his house and work with him--though they were free to continue working on reviews and such. Well Insano wasn't invited, but after Spoony was, he stated that he wasn't letting the man go anywhere without him ('How else will we have sex so easily at three in the morning?')

There was still no sign of Dimitri, the human trafficker, but Snob knew he was still out there. But the next time he showed up somewhere, they'd be ready for him. And Snob would make him pay for what he did, and tried to do, to his lover. Speaking of...

He finally gets to his bedroom, sighing as he closes it, kicking off his shoes, thankful that he was already in his pajamas and climbs into bed. He wraps his arms around his sleeping lover, more grateful than he ever thought he could be and happier.

: :: :

The End?

: :: :

OMAKE

: :: :

"Now...how the hell are we supposed to get off this boat and back home?"

 Chase looks at them. "I have an idea..."

"WOO!" says Critic. "This is just like--!"

 "If you say it's like the Neverending story, I will end you." says Chase.

 : :: :


End file.
